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Chestnut Hill

Yes, I suppose it was inevitable. Monsters out of control, again… Despite my discussions — make that warnings — they just couldn’t seem to help themselves.

2012 Chestnut Hill Art Fair

The morning arrived in blustery gray. Clouds raced by, chasing one another to some unknown destination. Rain spattered our windshield, challenging us to believe the sun would dare reveal herself. Not the promising start we had hoped for while preparing for my one and only art fair this year.

The monsters, trapped beneath their cellophane wrapping, whined and moaned as only monsters can do. Irritating in the extreme. They wished to be released from their printed paper prisons, set free to flee and fly into the stormy sky — to unleash their wild monster selves with abandon.

Alas, I would not, could not let them go. They were needed this particular day to be on their best behavior. To stay within their printed pages, if only for a while. Rain or shine, the show must go on – since today was the rain date of the week before.

Amid the muffled screams and protestations, my husband packed them all into the van. Tent, art, display panels – the usual fair paraphernalia – was sorted and squeezed; manipulated and manhandled into submission. I watched in awe as I whispered continued prayers for good weather.

By the time we arrived at our designated “spot on the street”, the wind had decided to join in the fun. Gentle breezes became chilly blasts. Enticing whiffs of aromatic soaps-for-sale, turned into whirlwinds of mixed scent – some not quite as welcome. While the packaged monsters giggled at our plight, the two of us managed to set up the tent, struggling to beat the clock before the fair’s official start time at 10am.Waves of adults, children and dogs paraded up and down the avenue. Laughter and chatter drifted by. The sun came out, the weather cleared, and I finally began to relax. All was well.

Then, to my ears, all manner of snorts, hoots, whistles and toots caught my attention. “How annoying!” I thought, as I leaned forward to see who might be responsible for all that mindless blather! Slowly, to my growing horror, I realized the sounds were coming from within my own tent!! Friendly faces, strolling past, turned cherry red as nasty names were hollered and teasing taunts were flung into the passing public. Innocent glances in my direction morphed into angry glares. My cheeks burned with shame.

I dove inside my tent, wishing there was a door, and pleaded with the monsters (grinning from ear to ear) to behave themselves for goodness sake!! Nothing worked of course, and panic blossomed within me. Fortunately for all, my brave husband stepped in to calm me down, and after a few moments of deep breathing, an idea struck.

Gathering my wits, I began whispering into each monsters ear. Within several minutes the melodrama had ceased. Monsters apparently, have rather large egos. Once I told them the fair was in their honor, that people had come from miles around just to gaze upon their likenesses… well, all became well… again.

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